


it's been a long, long time

by ivoryzippers



Category: Randal's Friends (Webcomic)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M, Romance, Self-Indulgent, Slow Dancing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-06
Updated: 2020-12-06
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:41:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27915442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ivoryzippers/pseuds/ivoryzippers
Summary: luther teaches nyen to dance. that's allhowdie sorry but i made ur characters mad gay 💀💀💀 MY BAD CHIEF
Relationships: Nyen/Luther Von Ivory
Comments: 2
Kudos: 12





	it's been a long, long time

**Author's Note:**

> they're listening to "it's been a long long time" by kitty kallen if you were curious.

The sound of grainy old music fills the kitchen room, the lady's voice sweet and filled with honey as she sings about her lover through the speaker. It was Luther's idea. He had an affinity for older things, older technology was no exception. He loved that old radio of his, and never spared a moment playing it in his free time.

For now, Luther's hands intertwined with Nyen's gently, allowing Nyen to find his hand to his waist. It was a careful process, with Nyen looking back at Luther for an almost silent approval to make sure he was doing the right thing.

The catman's eyes flickered back from his hands to Luther, to Luther's eyes, to his own hands again.

Nyen's face was focused, nose slightly scrunched as he tried to follow Luther's steps, hesitating in his motions as Luther keeps dancing with him.

He was so _patient_ , he thought. Nyen could have sworn he might have stepped on Luther's shoes at least twice now. He's worried he might do it a third time.

He wants to stop being so tense, but he's trying so hard; his shoulders might as well be frozen. He feels too aware of the sounds of his shoes and Luther's against the tile floor.

Luther gently squeezes Nyen's hand, pulling him back to attention.

His hands were soft, fingers longer than his own, smoother skin against his own calloused and rough hands. A physical, manifested reminder of how different the two were, yet he melted into the touch all the same.

"Relax, my dear."

Nyen takes it as a command, internalizes it and sighs deeply as he attempts to ease himself into the action of just dancing. It was just _dancing_ , it shouldn't be so _damn_ hard. Nyen can feel himself growing frustrated. _Why couldn't he just get it?_

"Be patient with yourself." Luther gently takes his hand to Nyen's face, residing on his cheek, to look at him. "It will come naturally. I promise."

Nyen didn't even notice he looked angry over the music playing, and a light blush spreads across his face as he feels the other man's hand on his now warm face. His face relaxes, a tension he hadn't even recognized. He seems to almost reset at the presence of his embrace.

"Yes sir."

"Hm. Not always is it needed for you to call me that."

"When would you like me to call you that, sir?"

"It's a moment for us, isn't it? Not for me only." Luther looks at Nyen directly this time, and Nyen for once, feels intimidated. He looks away. He doesn't know the right answer to this. What would be overstepping his master's boundaries? What would be under stepping it?

He can feel the man's stare on him again. The song echoes off the kitchen walls, filling the space between the two as an odd measure of time passing between each response.

"You are enjoying this, am I correct?" Luther pulls Nyen closer. Nyen can feel the heat rising up to his neck now. Nyen's hand on Luther's waist comes undone in panic, and Luther instead, puts his hand on Nyen's waist in place of it. Nyen can hear him so much better now, but he's at a loss for words. His thoughts are blank, every option for words have come undone, and now he's only berating himself mentally for coming off like Nyon.

Even with his urge to keep silent, Nyen forces out a small whisper of a yes, one that trails off his lips like he knows this moment will be robbed from him in an instant; clinging to it for memorization. He wishes he could take a picture of Luther like this, a snapshot of him, impacting his heart in a way that nobody else could.

Luther seems to think for a moment, before simply leaving the question. "We should do this more often, my love."

_Love._

At any other moment with anyone else, Nyen would have scoffed. But here, it calms him. Nyen relaxes fully into the rhythm of Luther's dance, head on Luther's shoulder as they gently swayed to the music in time. The grainy music enveloped the two, keeping them gently held until the end.


End file.
